Mud Pies for Sandcastles
by neurolingual
Summary: Paige thinks of something messy to cheer up her mopey daughter. Paily Weeks!


It physically pained Paige to see the sadness in her daughter's big, brown eyes.

She was home sick for the week with the flu, which meant she couldn't go on their beach vacation like Paige and Emily had promised her. It was all the six year old could talk about for weeks, telling all of her friends how she and her mommies had planned a week-long trip down to Virginia Beach, writing stories in English class and drawing pictures of their future adventures in Art. Emily had hung each masterpiece on their fridge, marking off the days on the nearby calendar, Carly's excitement growing with each passing day.

So, when they took Carly to the doctor's office yesterday (she had been a bit feverish and slightly nauseous over the weekend), and discovered she had the first stages of the flu, she had cried for hours. It wasn't a wailing sort of cry, more or less soft sobs and whimpers, one of the most heartbreaking sounds the two older women had ever heard in their thirty years of existence.

Now, Carly sat dejectedly on the couch, bundled up in at least three or four blankets (Paige kept adding another layer when she saw even the slightest shiver), snifflingly softly as she watched her favorite cartoon, which usually would have her laughing by now. Instead, she only looked on with a somber expression, her eyes still red and puffy from crying earlier.

Paige didn't know what to do to make her daughter feel better. Everything she tried, Carly took no interest in. They watched her favorite movies, played dress-up, and even made chocolate chip pancakes that morning for Emily's breakfast together. No matter what she tried, Paige just couldn't get her daughter to smile, and it was killing her on the inside.

She had never been unable to cheer Carly up. It had been the easiest thing for Paige to accomplish; all she had to do was make a few silly faces and speak in a funny accent, and Carly was rolling on the floor, erupting in to a fit of giggles.

But the cold silence that had been around them the past few hours was almost unbearable. Paige hadn't seen hear daughter's dimply, cheesy grin since they had woken up yesterday morning. She yearned to see her little girl smile again, exposing a two-front-toothless grin, brown eyes gushing with happiness and tan skin stretching across her face until it looked as if her face would split in two.

"What do you want to do today, sweetheart?" Paige asked softly, running her fingers through Carly's long auburn tresses.

Carly merely shrugged in response.

"There has to be something you want to do, right?" Paige was almost pleading now. "What about the Lego pirate ship? Mommy and I just bought you the new set the other day, right?"

"I already built it on Sunday with Uncle Caleb and Aunt Hanna." Carly's voice was hoarse, mostly from her sickness, but also from the muffled crying in the during her bath an hour ago.

"Well, what if we read a book? I'll let you pick this time." Carly only held Paige's soft gaze for a few seconds before her eyes flickered back over to the television screen.

"I just want to build sandcastles, Momma." It sounded like she was on the verge of tears again. Paige sighed sadly, standing up and walking over to the kitchen window. She wished Emily hadn't gone into work today, seeing as how their vacation was newly canceled. Paige decided to keep her week off and at least _try_ and make her daughter happy.

Something in the backyard caught her eye, and a small grin tugged at the corner of her mouth.

"Hey, Carly, I know something we can do that's _way_ better than making sand castles."

* * *

"Hello?" Emily peers around the corner of the hallway, hearing the soft murmur of the television still on, but no one in sight. "Paige? Carly?" She calls out again. Receiving no response, she sets her purse down on the island counter and pulls a chilled water bottle from the refrigerator.

Maybe Paige had put Carly down for a nap, seeing as that's all her daughter was interested in doing since they got the news yesterday. Emily had never seen her daughter look so… defeated, like the illness had sucked all the happiness right out of her tiny little body. What was even worse was having to watch Carly unpack her giant suitcase, refusing help when Paige or herself had offered it to her. She was silent the rest of the day, only speaking to ask for a glass of water or some more soup.

So, when the sudden, melodious sound of Carly's laughter filled her ears, Emily was more than curious.

She walked up the stairs, looking in each bedroom, still no sign of her wife or daughter, but being able to hear their synchronized giggles coming from _somewhere_, and somewhere rather close. Her search stopped short as she caught sight of something bright and yellow from their backyard dancing across the green grass from Carly's bedroom window.

Paige's back was to her as she lifted Carly in the air, spinning her around a few times before setting her down, chasing her across the hard and stepping over the hose. They both had large, dark smudges covering three-fourths of their clothes and upper bodies._ What on earth?_

She made her way back downstairs and out to the back porch, where she could now see that the two of them were soaking wet and covered in thick, slimy mud.

"Paige?" She called out, confused and slightly annoyed at their antics. _Our daughter is sick, you idiot_, she chastised Paige in her mind.

"Mommy! You're home!" Carly came bounding up the stairs, wrapping her arms around Emily's thighs and snuggling her muddy face into the lapels of Emily's black blazer.

"Carly Anne McCullers!" Emily pries her daughter away and holds her back at arm's length. "What are you doing?"

"Momma said that since we can't build sandcastles that she would teach me how to make mud pies!" Carly's cheeky grin was almost enough to wash away her annoyance with her irresponsible wife.

Almost.

"You do realize she's sick, right?" Emily didn't bother trying to mask her irritation with the pale skinned woman, who was wiping away at dried mud caked on her brow.

"I know, Em, but… I couldn't stand to see her moping around all day. It was killing me not to see her smile."

And Emily's resolve quickly disappeared.

"Come make mud pies with us, Mommy!" Carly tugged on the sleeve of her blazer, pulling a smiling Emily into the soggy grass alongside her equally giddy wife, who offered to take Emily's blazer and hand it up on the nearby picnic table.

"Well, how do you make them?" Emily asked, sitting down alongside Carly next to the large pile of mud where an old doghouse used to be.

"Like this," she heard Paige whisper before a slab of mud covered her entire cheek. She gasped at the coldness of it, cold quickly replaced by a playful energy as she plucked Carly from the ground and tossed the six year old on her back, dashing across the yard to catch up with a smiling Paige, who dodged every mud ball Carly hurled her way.

* * *

It was about five-thirty when they retired from their outdoor shenanigans and came inside, Paige offering to make dinner while Emily and Carly went up and showered. By the time they had finished, Paige had put the pizza in the oven and dashed upstairs to take a shower of their own. They ate and chatted, a newfound energy bubbling from Carly that was a welcomed feeling by bother her mothers.

After dinner, when Carly was yawning and barely able to keep her eyes open, Paige carried her up the stairs, leaving Emily alone with the dishes. Paige was back not even twenty minutes later, sneaking up behind Emily and wrapping her strong arms around a slender waist, placing soft kisses on Emily's exposed shoulder.

"What you did was stupid," Emily sighed, relishing the feeling of Paige's lips ghosting against her skin. "Being in the wet mud probably only made her more ill."

"Yeah but," Paige giggled softly, "It was totally worth it to see her smile. _And_ seeing you all dirty and covered in mud."

Emily laughed, twisting in Paige's arms and delicately cupping her wife's face in her tan hands, thumbs trailing softly against pale cheekbones.

"Just," she sighed, "Making mud pies, Paige? The next time you want to cheer our daughter up, don't choose an activity so stupid and messy."

Paige only smirked and pulled Emily closer.

"No promises."


End file.
